


A Hot Mess

by Louffox



Series: The Feel-Goods [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, M/M, Magnus has regrets, Protective Alec Lightwood, SO MUCH FLUFFF, Sicfic, Whump, just good feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 18:29:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11765823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Louffox/pseuds/Louffox
Summary: "I make bad choices sometimes," Magnus said, looking regretful."You ate Mexican seafood from a place with 'munchies' in the name."





	A Hot Mess

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing another Malec fic right now and it's kind of tearing me apart inside, it's pure angst and pain, so I needed to write some fluff and kind loving magical boyfriends stuff to feel better. And I'm still writing that other horrible thing, so expect more like this coming soon. Enjoy!
> 
> Warning- contains somewhat graphic description of vomiting.

Alec thundered up the stairs headlong and singlemindedly. Or he would've thundered, if he hadn't had a stealth rune going. He was in a rush and the entire building ought to know it.

 

He cursed the elevator yet again. It had broken a few days prior and Magnus, entirely out of spite, refused to fix it.  _ I'm not the landlord _ , he'd scoffed.  _ I pay someone else to take care of this. Anyways, I don't know how elevators work and I'd probably get scolded by the clave if I accidentally made that Willy Wonka glass elevator a reality.  _ Alec had no idea what a Willy Wonka was or what his glass elevator would do to piss off the clave, and Magnus had updated his list of movies for them to watch.

 

So he not-thundered up the annoying stairs. If Magnus was dead on the floor a dozen stories up, Alec was never going to forgive his not-fixing-the-elevator laziness.

 

It had been about 13 hours since Alec had spoken with Magnus and to say he was a little worried was like saying Magnus was a little lewd and his mother was a little stubborn and Chairman Meow was a little overweight.

 

They'd texted each other good night around midnight. And that was fine, but then Alec didn't get his usual good morning text at 9, nor any response at all to the rather spectacular and bold snapchat he'd sent of his bedhead, and by 11:30, Alec’s concerns could no longer be contained. A number of calls to Magnus’s phone had gone right to voicemail.

 

He felt Magnus’s wards wash around and over him, like a gossamer curtain, letting him through. The doorknob turned happily for him and he entered at a low ready crouch, an arrow already nocked.

 

He heard the faintest sound in the back left corner of the loft, and moved toward it soundlessly, staying concealed behind each bit of furniture. Magnus’s room was clear, so he quick stepped to clear the bathroom as well.

 

“My tragic hero. Fire away. End my suffering,” Magnus moaned.

 

Alec’s bow was gone from his hands in an instant, and he was kneeling at Magnus’s side.

 

“Mags! Whats- are you okay?”

 

“Peachy keen, lover, are you okay?”

 

“I’m f- What are you doing?”

 

“Admiring the porcelain. Thanking the toilet for being such a good toilet. It's always here when I need it. Shiny and cold and wonderful. And cold. This is not a place my lovely face should go, Alexander. And you, what are you even doing here? Go find some other tragedy to gawk at.” Even curled up to a toilet, Magnus was able to adopt a demure pose, folding his arms over the toilet and resting his chin on his hands.

 

Alec blinked. Magnus usually talked like this, on some level, but he was barely coherent. Little of what he said made sense.

 

“Are you, like… sick?” Did warlocks get sick? Was it contagious? Was he cursed? Did Alec need to get help?

 

“I ate a fish taco from a place called Mexicali Munchies last night. I make bad choices sometimes,” Magnus said, looking regretful.

 

“You ate mexican seafood from a place with ‘munchies’ in the name,” Alec repeated disbelievingly. “And what even is ‘mexicali?’”

 

“I- look, I’m centuries old, I don’t need to justify my choices to you. It seemed like a great idea at the time, and in defense of the fish taco, it was  _ delicious _ . Not so much the second time, though,” Magnus said faintly, nodding a little. He sat up a bit and rubbed his hands over his face. “Really, though, why are you here?”

 

“I…” Now it was Alec’s turn to look evasive. “I was… you didn’t text me good morning. So I got worried and I called a few times, and you didn’t answer, so I… Ijustassumedyouweredeadinaditch,” he said quickly. Magnus gave him a wry smile.

 

“You were worried about me? That’s adorable. As you can see, I’m not dead in a ditch. Though that’s not totally out of the question at this point. Thank you for checking in on me, I’m fine, and now you can return to your important shadowhunter business.”

 

Alec gave him a flat stare. The warlock, usually so composed and untouchable, was a complete and total hot mess. His skin was ashen, cheeks bright with fever, face shining with not glitter but a thin sheen of sweat, his lips were pale and dry, eyes were feline aspect and slightly bloodshot, and completely bare of makeup and jewelry. His pajamas, what was probably a trendy gray tunic and short pink running shorts, were now rumpled and sweat damp. His hair was flat on one side and sticking straight up greasily on the other. The bathroom smelled of humidity and bile.

 

“I love you,” Alec said unflinchingly. “And I’m going to take care of you.” His voice left no room for argument. Usually, in private quarters such as these, Magnus took charge, and Alec’s no-nonsense leader voice only came out at the Institute or in battle. But right now, he was clearly taking back command.

 

“Darling, I appreciate it, but I’ve been sweating and rather violently puking since 5 AM. I might have vomited up my toenails. I’m a mess, and I’m sure you’ve got far more enjoyable things to do than camp out on a bathroom floor with me. Like cleaning up after a drunken seelie rave, or scrape demon blood or other ectoplasmic fluids off weapons. Maybe hunt sewer vamps,” he suggested jovially.

 

Alec ignored him, texting Isabelle with one hand and getting a cloth damp under cold water with the other. “You’ve been here since 5? Mags, you could’ve called me.”

 

“Seriously, Alexander, you don’t have to see this. I love you too, but…” he sighed shakily, pressing his face against the rim of the toilet and closing his eyes for a moment.

 

“Hey. Don’t be ridiculous. I’m here to help,” Alec said gently, crouching beside him and wiping at the fresh dots of sweat on his brow. The warlock groaned a little at the feel of the cool cloth.

 

“I’m gonna be ill again,” he mumbled, face scrunching in pain. “Gods. I hate this.”

 

“It’s fine, you’re fine, I’m here. Try and relax, get it out,” Alec murmured. He fell into the role of caretaker with ease. Growing up, he was the oldest, and he learned very quickly that Maryse and Robert certainly weren't going to play nurse. When he was ill, Maryse would often avoid the house, claiming she couldn’t afford to catch anything as well, because she was far too busy and the shadow world couldn’t afford to lose her. Robert might awkwardly hover in the doorway, keeping a distance, maybe bringing a glass of water. So when Isabelle and Max were growing up, Alec made sure to give them all the care and comfort he’d never received, and even when they adopted Jace, he applied the same nursing kindness.

 

Magnus shook his head a little, lips white, and then leaned over the bowl, back and stomach contracting as he was ill again. Alec dabbed at his face and passed him a tissue when he was done, and flushed after he’d blown his nose. Magnus sighed and fell back against the tub, eyes closed and face exhausted.

 

“This is awful,” he said.

 

“Have you learned something today?” Alec asked a little teasingly.

 

“Yeah, Mexicali Munchies is gonna get one hell of a curse when I’m recovered. Maybe a severe dandruff hex. Or a plague of locusts, followed immediately by a health inspection by the inspector with his hernias acting up.” Alec laughed.

 

“You get so much take-out, it’s amazing this doesn’t happen more often.”

 

“I guess you’ll just have to cook for me forever,” Magnus said brightly.

 

Alec laughed and got up. “Have you had any water?”

 

“I had a little a while ago.”

 

“I’ll get you a glass. Or would you like some tea?”

 

“Tea would be wonderful,” Magnus crooned. “This is why I keep you around. You’re a genius.”

 

“And maybe a tylenol for that fever,” Alec decided. “Wait- can warlocks take medicine?”

 

“Yep. I’ve got a bottle in the cupboard above the stove, I think. Tea is in the lazy susan to the left of the sink. Ginger chai would be marvelous.”

 

“Coming right up. Holler or kick over the trash if you need something,” Alec said. He made the tea quickly, listening hard in case Magnus got ill again. He found the medicine where he said it would be, and found a sleeve of saltines as well. He hurried back, toeing off his boots at the door and dropping his jacket on the way.

 

“Mmmmm, I love you,” Magnus said, accepting the tea. It was in a mug Alec had gotten him shortly after they’d marathoned the entire Harry Potter series during a rainstorm, and said  _ espresso patronum _ on it with little gold sparkles around the rim. Magnus looked at it, then looked up at Alec with such love that it took his breath away.

 

“There will be no cuddling until this is over,” Magnus said quickly, apparently noticing that they both had been making heart eyes for a full minute without speaking. “I have fever sweats and barf breath.”

 

“Like that's gonna scare me away,” Alec scoffed, but respected his request and sat across from him. “Chairman Meow didn't eat any munchies seafood did he?”

 

They stayed in the bathroom together for a long while, Alec fussing over Magnus and Magnus fussing about being fussed over, but without any genuine anger. They talked about cats, movies, their friends, the future, clubs, weapons, literature, and where they would vacation next. Alec kept him distracted and hydrated, alternating between peppermint and ginger chai tea, and managed to convince him to nibble on some crackers. Alec wrapped him in blankets when he was cold and hung a cold compress over his shoulders when he was hot, never complaining that he changed temperature every five minutes. Eventually, the gap between bouts of illness grew, until Magnus had finished a mug of tea and kept it down for over an hour.

 

“Do you want to try going to bed? I think the worst of it is over, we’ve just got to break the cycle your body is in. You might be able to sleep the rest of it off,” Alec suggested. At this point, Magnus was no longer talkative, eyes closed most of the time, barely mumbling any communication at all. He looked beyond tired.

 

Alec helped him stand, slowly, and they stood still for a moment while Magnus fought back nausea and struggled to find strength in his legs. Alec longed to scoop him up and carry him, but worried the motion would make him sick again. Leaning heavily on the shadowhunter, they eventually managed to get to bed. Alec helped him change into a dry shirt and tucked him into the sheets. He stroked his hair back and lightly kissed his forehead, and went to get his water glass, tea, and crackers. He put them on the bedside table, in case he woke up hungry or thirsty, and hesitated.

 

“Stay?”

  
Magnus’s voice was small and slightly slurred with sleep, but had an insistent tone to it that Alec simply couldn’t refuse. He stripped down to his boxer briefs and borrowed a plain black shirt from Magnus’s wardrobe and slipped into bed behind Magnus. The warlock turned to tuck himself against Alec’s side, pillowing his head on his shoulder, humming like a pleased cat.

 

Alec stuck around the next day as well, helping Magnus slowly reintroduce food, shooing away clients, and texting Izzy and Jace instructions on running things while he was away. As nice as it was to doctor Magnus, he realized he needed the eleven hours of sleep and comfort food as well- he’d been right out for weeks, running on coffee and adrenaline and the fear of screwing up. And he’d spent barely a few dinner and lunch dates with Magnus during that time.

 

And… helping Magnus when he was sick seemed to open a new door in their relationship. Before, they continued to dress well for each other, play it smooth, remain constantly aware of their own and each other’s composure.

 

But now, Magnus seemed totally at ease in his pajamas, hair a mess and makeup free. Like, seeing each other at their worst had allowed them to be comfortable with being lazy and normal. They didn’t feel the need to impress as much. Their relationship had grown. Magnus didn’t return his glamour to his eyes when it was just the two of them, and Alec never wore shoes around Magnus’s apartment again. They went running and got sweaty together, shared bites off the same donut, and felt more comfortable staying at each other’s places and using each other’s showers.

 

Alec was over the moon. They were practically domestic, something he hadn’t really expected of Magnus. It was charming. It was love.

**Author's Note:**

> Short, sweet, and very necessary. I love the idea of Alec taking care of Magnus for once. Also I love sicfics. and whump. do kids still say whump these days?
> 
> If anyone has any prompts or ideas, let me know in the comments, and maybe I'll write it! PLEASE FEED THE FOX. I need more cute ideas to write so I can feel happy and make others happy!


End file.
